


I'll Always Be Right There

by aschicca



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Big Dick Richie Tozier, Blowjobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming In Pants, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Humor, M/M, Mentions of Sex Toys, Misunderstandings, POV Richie Tozier, Post-Canon Fix-It, Rated T for Trashmouth, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, The Losers have a group chat because I love it, The Turtle CAN Help Us (IT), Well Stan is still dead sorry, lots of swearing, mentions of anal sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26140402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aschicca/pseuds/aschicca
Summary: Richie never thought his feelings would be reciprocated. He knew Eddie would most likely let him down gently and that they’d have to try and navigate a little awkwardness for a while before they got past it (after Richie put the pieces of his heart back together as best he could) and went back to being best friends. But thisYou don’t know meshit? This was worse than anything Pennywise could ever put him through.Or: Richie gets his heart broken in more ways than one, and Eddie would just like to have the chance to explain himself.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 34
Kudos: 199





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story snuck up on me and I resisted it for a very long time. I carried bits of it in my head but absolutely refused to even try and write something. Then I talked to my dear friend and Beta, Piksa, and she gently bullied me into at least trying to get what I had out of my head... It was all downhill from there. 
> 
> So, for this one, you will need to blame her (love you, hon!) and especially Bill Hader. He's the one that gave life to the Richie Tozier I've had in my head since I first read the book (I was 15 years old, so it was quite a long time ago...) and it's his fault I became obsessed with Reddie. Again.
> 
> Anyway, the story is complete and I think I'll try to post one chapter a week. Might get impatient and post more frequently (it's been known to happen) or not, guess we'll see. 
> 
> There's a reference to Buffy The Vampire Slayer in this chapter, cookies if you spot it ;) Hope you'll enjoy this!

The thing is: Richie was always there. 

He’d been there since that day in kindergarten when Eddie broke one of his crayons, the red one fresh out of the new box his mother bought him, and started crying. Richie took it upon himself to turn the whole thing into a joke that sent Eddie into a fit of giggles, teary eyes sparkling with mirth, and then took out his own red crayon and stuck it into Eddie’s box. 

From that moment on, Richie was there whenever Eddie had a problem, whenever he was needed (and often when he wasn’t,) whenever Eddie was happy or sad or angry or hurt; he was there to jump between Eddie and Bowers, there to take a fist that was intended for Eddie and then tease him playfully while Eddie gagged and still insisted to be the one to wipe the blood off Richie’s face. He was there at night to keep the nightmares at bay – his own as well as Eddie’s – and he was there in the mornings to call Eddie weird nicknames and rile him up with stupid mom jokes. Richie was there for lazy afternoons at the Barrens, for bike rides and video games, for movie nights and the feeling of Eddie’s thigh pressed against his own.

During the worst summer of their childhood, Richie forcibly put himself between Eddie and a murderous clown and yelled at his friend to keep his eyes fixed on Richie. Hands on Eddie’s cheeks, Richie kept him still, kept him looking at Richie, kept Eddie safe the only way he could think of; and whilst he did that, only one thought rang clear in his head: _If I die here, now, at least Eddie’s face will be the very last thing I see._

If only had he been allowed to, Richie would have been there forever. Instead, less than three years after the Losers defeated Pennywise, Richie’s family moved out of Derry and he forgot. He forgot his friends, he forgot his feelings, he forgot that he was supposed to be by Eddie’s side and keep him close. 

For twenty-seven years, Richie forgot and now that he remembered it all so clearly… Eddie was dead. 

It was too late. _Richie_ was too late, but it didn’t matter. He remembered now and he knew what he had to do.

He allowed Ben and Mike to pull him off of Eddie’s lifeless body, allowed them to drag him across the cistern to the entrance and then Richie forcibly propelled his own body forward while at the same time pushing his friends back. Richie fell on the ground and just a second later the entrance was effectively blocked by a rock, trapping him inside.

“No!” 

Richie heard Beverly’s anguished cry, and it brought tears to his eyes.

“I’m sorry…” Richie whispered, shivering a bit when he could hear Mike (or was it Ben?) calling his name. He hoped his friends wouldn’t wait around trying to free him, that they would run as fast as they could towards safety, but his own time was running out so Richie scrambled to get up and ran back to where Eddie’s body lay.

“Hey, Eds,” Richie pulled Eddie against himself once more and hid his own face in Eddie’s shoulder. “You and me, Spaghetti Man. Like it’s always been, yeah?”

Rocks and debris fell down, and a few hit Richie’s body making him whimper in pain, but he didn’t let go of Eddie. He couldn’t, he _wouldn’t_. Richie knew it was only a matter of seconds before he died, he just hoped that when it would come it would be as painless as possible. 

A shift in the air caused all the hair on Richie’s body stand up and gave him goosebumps. It felt like time had stopped and when Richie glanced up he saw a few rocks frozen just above his head.

“What the fuck?”

_This Is Not Your Time._

“What the actual fuck?? Who’s there?” Gently, Richie lay Eddie’s body down against the wall before he turned around towards the voice. “If I need to kill that fucking clown again, I swear…”

 _This Is Not Your Time._ The voice repeated.

“Yeah? Well, tough! Just come out and kill me, you coward! You don’t get to decide when and where to kill me anymore! Come on!” Richie jumped up and started waving his hands like mad. “You got another claw, right? Stick it in, motherfucker! I’m waiting!”

_It Is Dead. It Cannot Hurt You Anymore. This Is Not Your Time. You Don’t Die Here._

For some reason, Richie believed the voice. Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that, at the corner of his eye, he could see the huge shape of what looked like a turtle. 

“If you’re not the clown then what are you? And what do you mean, I don’t die here? Sorry to break it to you, pal, but this place is seconds away from going kaboom and the entrance’s blocked. My time or not, guess who’s gonna be flatter than Wile E. Coyote with an anvil on his head?” Richie pointed sarcastically at himself and took a bow.

_I Can Let You Out._

“The fuck you will!” Richie knelt back down and hugged Eddie’s body tight. “If you really want to do something for me, you bring him back! Wasn’t his time, either! I’ll even do you one better: You bring Eddie back, you let _him_ out, and I’ll die with a smile on my face. This is an offer you cannot refuse,” he concluded, using what was one of his, admittedly, worst impressions of an Italian mobster. Sue him for not being in the mood.

_A Life Can Be Saved. It Cannot Be Restored._

“Then we’re out of luck, aren’t we?” 

And yes, of course Richie knew that. The Losers, or the ones that were still in Derry in 1992, had loved Disney’s version of Aladdin and Richie fully remembered how even the Genie couldn’t bring people back from the dead. _Veeeeery Messy!_ had been the Genie’s reasoning behind that rule, and Richie had snorted soda out of his nose he laughed so hard. 

He didn’t feel like laughing at it anymore.

_You Can Save That Life._

“Wait, what?”

_I Can Let You Out. It Doesn’t Have To Be In The Present. You Can Go Back._

“Back, you mean, before Pennywise made shish kebab out of my best friend? How? When? How the fuck would that work?” 

Richie hated the small spark of hope in his chest but at the same time he clung to it as tightly as he did Eddie’s body.

_You Will Remember. You Will Know. But It Won’t Be Easy. Memories Can’t Come Back Fast Enough._

“So let’s pretend I understood all of that, okay? But just for kicks, what the fuck are you talking about?”

_You Will Have To Act Fast. Memories Won’t Be As Fast. You Will Need The Feeling._

“The feeling?” 

Holy shit, did everyone know that he was a big, flaming homosexual pathetically in love with his best friend since his teenage years? Did he have a sign? ‘Richie Tozier, resident idiot, unrepenting Trashmouth, stupidly in love with one Eddie Kaspbrak. You can kick him for a dollar, or make fun of him for free!’

_This Feeling. The Loss. The Grief. Hold On To It. Remember It. Make Sure Not To Feel It Again._

Oh. Oh, that made sense. Ok, thank you, turtle god, for not spitting daggers at me about my ‘dirty little secret.’

Richie went to say something out loud, but time started moving again and he felt his own body being yanked backwards. He was forced to let go of Eddie and he screamed in pain at the loss.

 _Hold On To The Feeling._ He heard again and a mere second later his back connected with the ground and Eddie was on top of him. Alive.

“Yeah, there he is, buddy! Hey, Richie! I think I did it, man! I think…”

_agony, loss, grief, terror, despair, misery, and pain, pain, pain…_

“…I killed… hmmpff!”

Richie grabbed Eddie, held him tight to his chest, then started rolling on the ground until his back hit a rocky wall and twinged in pain. Distantly, he could hear the awful sound of It’s claw hitting the ground where they were laying just a second before, and the screams of his friends trying to distract Pennywise so Richie and Eddie could get up and run, but for a moment Richie was too out of breath to do anything. Luckily, Eddie didn’t have the same problem: He got up and hastily pulled Richie to his feet. 

They ran.

*

They were all still running, flying like bats out hell (literal hell…) from the house on Neibolt as it collapsed on their heads, but this time It was dead and all of the Losers were unharmed.

Their legs gave out at the same time and the six surviving Losers sat down on the ground, in silence, and looked at the remains of the house that plagued their nightmares for thirty years. By some sort of unspoken agreement they sat in pairs with Beverly’s head resting on Ben’s shoulder, and Bill and Mike sitting close side by side. Richie and Eddie were sitting a bit away from the others and they were still holding hands.

“Wow,” Eddie whispered, and Richie nodded.

His memories of the turtle and what happened in a past that he hoped to have changed for good were coming back to Richie at full force and he knew he was squeezing Eddie’s hand too hard. He knew he had to gentle his hold or he would risk hurting his friend, but Eddie was holding back just as tight so Richie simply breathed and clung back.

“I’m gay,” Richie said after a while, and his voice rang loud and clear in the silence of his friends. He didn’t remember deciding to speak, let alone come out, but Richie couldn’t say he regretted it.

Eddie squeezed his hand and smiled at him, and a weight lifted off Richie’s shoulders. He glanced back at the rest of the Losers and found only love and pride on their faces. How could he have ever doubted that this would be his best friends’ reaction to the knowledge of his sexuality?

“I’m proud of you, Richie,” Beverly smiled at him.

“Very proud, yeah,” Ben agreed.

“Thank you for telling us, Richie,” Mike commented, and Bill nodded with a smile.

“All those mom jokes, really. Should have known something was up,” Eddie sing-songed.

Richie laughed. “Ah, Spaghetti. Your mom was always the exception to the rule! Hey! Do you think she’s what made me gay? Lying underneath her at night was…”

“Beep fucking beep, Richie!” Eddie yelled, dropping Richie’s hand and punching his thigh.

Richie cackled.

“Hey guys, if you’re quite done?” Mike called out, amused. “We’re going to the quarry. You coming?”

They all got up and started walking but Richie purposefully slowed down his pace so that he and Eddie would fall back a bit from their friends.

“You okay?” Of course, Eddie noticed.

“Yup. Just thinking about your mom, you know?”

Eddie threw his hands up in the air and started walking faster, but Richie stopped him.

“Wait, Eds…”

“Don’t call me that!”

Richie smiled. “Need to tell you something, Eddie. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure, anything, but if you talk about my mother again I swear I’m gonna drown you as soon as we hit the fucking water at the quarry!”

“Such fire, Spaghetti Man,” Richie couldn’t resist saying, but he sobered up as soon as it looked like Eddie was going to walk away again. “Okay, okay, sorry! I really need to say something and I swear I’m serious about it. This is not a bit or a joke. Okay?”

Eddie nodded.

“I… Eds, I…” Richie sighed and closed his eyes. When he felt Eddie’s hand on his arm, Richie re-opened his eyes and looked down at him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Rich,” was Eddie’s immediate response and for a second Richie considered letting it go: Just two friends saying how much they cared for one another. No homo, bro!

But the memories were becoming clearer and clearer, and all Richie could focus on was how it felt to kneel on the ground back at the cistern, holding Eddie’s corpse and waiting to become one too… And he just couldn’t. He knew he needed to say it. Hold on to the fucking feeling, right?

“No, I… I mean, I’m in love with you, Eds. Have been for… eh… my whole life, I guess. Definitely since 1989. So there, now you know.”

For a second, nothing happened. It was like Richie’s words, his confession, his little secret that he refused to think of as dirty ever again, hung there in the air between himself and Eddie. They’d stopped walking while Richie spoke so their friends were way ahead of them at the moment. They were, effectively, alone.

“Rich…”

“You don’t… Eds, you don’t have to say anything. I just, I couldn’t keep it in anymore. It had to come out, pun so fucking intended, and so I said it. I said it. I’m in love with you. I love you. But you…”

“You can’t,” Eddie said, frowning up at Richie.

“I’m sorry, what? Are you trying to tell me how I feel? Because let me tell you, Eddie, that’s…”

“I’m not… No! Of course, I’m not telling you how to feel! I just… I’m saying you can’t say that. You can’t say you love me. How could… Fuck, Richie, you don’t even know me!”

Eddie’s words pierced Richie straight through the chest – hey, look at that! I’m the one impaled now! And not in the _fun_ way! – and he staggered back. 

To be fair, Richie never thought his feelings would be reciprocated. He knew Eddie would most likely let him down gently and that they’d have to try and navigate a little awkwardness for a while before they got past it (after Richie put the pieces of his heart back together as best he could) and went back to being best friends. But this _You don’t know me_ shit? This was worse than anything Pennywise could ever put him through. This was… 

And the worst part? Eddie wasn’t finished.

“… know me now! And I don’t know you. Rich, two days ago I didn’t even _remember_ you. I don’t know a thing about you, the person you are now! And you don’t… You don’t know shit about me.”

“I don’t… You’re saying…” Richie’s voice refused to collaborate and after a while he just stopped trying to speak and started walking.

“Richie!” Eddie ran after him and started talking again, but Richie blocked him out. 

There was only one way to come out of this situation but Richie wasn’t sure he even remembered how to be funny just then. He opted for teasing as the result was mostly the same.

“You know, Eds,” Richie said, interrupting Eddie mid-sentence. “I was actually thinking that you’re really brave. Braver than I’d expected you to be, honestly, and I always knew you were brave.”

“You… I… What the fuck, Richie? Where are you going with this?” Eddie gaped at him.

“No, I mean, you’re really something, Spagheds!”

“Can you NOT call me that, Richie, for fuck’s sake! What are you talking about?”

“Look at you, all cut up with a still barely closed wound on your face and you jumped at the chance to, well, _jump_ off a cliff in the dirty water of the quarry! You’ve come a long way, my dude! Little hypochondriac Eddie would never!”

Richie could see his plan working perfectly when Eddie stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide and face pale, and spluttered. He pointed at Richie, then looked at the rest of the Losers that just caught up with the fact that Richie and Eddie weren’t keeping up and stopped to wait for them, and ran to them to strongly voice his objections at being forced to swim in the damn quarry.

“I don’t know you, uh, Eds? You keep fucking telling yourself that,” Richie whispered to himself. He put his hands inside the pockets of his jacket, hunched his shoulders, and made his way slowly towards his friends.

*

Beverly was the first to jump, followed closely by Ben, then Bill and Mike. Eddie still looked dubious but something Mike told him convinced him to jump with the others so, with one last look at Richie, he dived in.

Richie walked to the edge of the cliff, looked down at his friends, splashing happily and carefree in the dirty water and laughing with each other, then turned around and walked away.

He was able to leave Derry before the Losers got back to the Townhouse and turned off his phone so that no one would be able to reach him until he wanted them to. 

Maybe, just maybe, Derry would finally do him a solid and he’d forget again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, patience was never my strong suit so here's another chapter. It's quite possible I'll update again at the end of the week...
> 
> Thank you for reading and stopping by to comment or leave kudos! I appreciated it more than you can know :)

Richie didn’t forget. He hadn’t truly wanted to, of course, and he was glad to remember his friends and his life, but there were times when he still thought it would have been kinder to let his memories go. As it was, since he wasn’t able to ignore the memories, for the time being Richie was doing his best to ignore his friends.

His first week back in LA after he hightailed out of Derry in a rush was frenzied. Richie came out to his manager and the two of them decided to cancel the remaining dates of his tour so that he could focus on trying to write his own material and think about how and when (if, even) he wanted to come out to the public.

With all that out of the way, and with the enormous relief that came with not having to hide who he was anymore, Richie found himself with plenty of free time and no reason whatsoever to dodge calls and texts from the Losers.

The nightmares he was having about Eddie’s death and his own decision to stay behind and die with him were truly bad, and Richie knew that his friends were the only ones that could help him keep them at bay. They would help just by being there, even if they didn’t know what Richie went through. 

Still, he didn’t relent. He held on for another week and he probably would have been stubborn enough to keep it up, but Beverly’s call caught him off guard one day and he answered before he even thought about it.

“Bev?”

“Richie! Are you okay? Oh my god tell me you’re okay!”

Beverly’s voice conveyed such anxiety and worry that Richie instantly felt like the lowest piece of shit on Earth.

“Sorry, Bev. Yeah, I’m fine…”

“Are you sure? Nothing happened to you? You didn’t… You weren’t hurt or something? You just… You left so suddenly and we couldn’t find you! It was terrifying…”

“Shit, I’m so sorry… I didn’t think. I just needed to be out of that fucking town, you know? I felt like I couldn’t breathe and… Yeah. I’m sorry,” Richie said, trying to bite back his tears.

“But you’re okay?” Beverly insisted.

“Yes, Bev. I promise. I’m fine.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind telling me what the fuck is wrong with you, Tozier? Uh? You needed to get out? Fine! You get out _after_ you tell us you’re going to! And then you call us to let us know you made it home okay! And answer your fucking phone when we call or text. You… You… Idiot! I’m gonna kick you so hard when I see you again, you just wait!”

Against all reason, Beverly’s tirade made Richie laugh. He laughed as hard as he could and after a while, and a few more insults, he could hear Beverly’s answering laugh in his ear.

“Asshole!” She giggled again.

“I said I was sorry, Bevvie! I promise I will offer you my nuts to kick next time I see you, okay?”

“Yeah, right. You’ll probably squeal like a little girl and hide behind Mike!”

Richie snorted. “I’d rather be behind Ben, actually. That ass… Am I right, Miss Marsh?”

“You could bounce a quarter off it. I know. I’ve done it,” Beverly sassed, and Richie laughed again.

He’d definitely picked up on some weird vibe between Beverly and Ben back in Derry, so Richie was glad to have confirmation of the two of them finally getting together. Good for Ben, at least one of them deserved to have the love of their life finally fulfilled after all these years. 

“Well well well, this conversation is taking a turn I’m enjoying. Tell me more, Bev! Is he perfectly proportioned _everywhere_ , does he have a big…”

“Beep beep, Richie!”

“Awwww, but I was having fun!” Richie complained, amused.

“Not as much fun as I am, believe me,” Beverly’s voice was sarcastic and a bit out of breath, and Richie loved to hear it. She deserved the world and Richie knew that Ben would do everything in his power to make sure she got it.

“See? You keep teasing me and then you don’t want me to beg for more! Come on, Ringwald! Deets! We need deets!”

“Deets? Are you a teenage girl now?”

“Always have been, always will be,” Richie deadpanned, and enjoyed Beverly’s laugh.

“Enough now, Rich. You’re not derailing this conversation. I’m sorry, I love you, but you’re not getting off this easy,” Beverly was serious now, Richie heard it, but he still tried his best to delay the inevitable.

“Actually, it’s been a while, you know? I think getting me off wouldn’t be that difficult these days…”

“Richie!” Beverly giggled despite herself. “We’re doing this! You…”

“We’re doing this? Bev! What would Ben say? Also, sorry to break it to you – again – but uhm… I’m gay? Like, really, really, ‘bend me over and give it to me good’ gay…”

“I’m tempted to switch to Face Time just so I can glare and roll my eyes at you,” Bev said. “If I wasn’t so worried you’d go back to not picking up, I would.”

Richie sighed. “I said I was sorry…”  


"Yes, you did. But Richie… Are you done avoiding us? Can I call you or text you knowing you’ll pick up? That you’ll text back? Can all of us?”

Beverly’s tone still had that small amount of worry and hurt in it and Richie once more felt like a piece of garbage for making her feel like that. Was he done avoiding everything? No? But he knew he would have to stop shutting his friends out.

“I promise, Bev. Really.”

“Okay, I believe you. Thank you, Richie.”

“No, hey, you don’t need to thank me! I’m a piece of shit, you don’t need to be grateful to me for doing the bare minimum!”

Beverly snorted. “No but it made you feel bad, didn’t it? All guilty and gross? Job well done, I’d say.”

“You witch!” Richie laughed, and Beverly laughed with him. His laughter, however, died pretty quickly when Beverly calmed down and spoke again.

“Rich… Did something… Did you and Eddie fight or something?” She asked, and Richie choked on his own spit.

“Wha… uh… what? Why would…”

“It’s just… The two of you fell behind while we were walking towards the quarry and when you caught up with us, you looked… Then you just left so we ran back to the Townhouse, and when we couldn’t find you anywhere we were all worried sick, but Eddie… Eddie was…”

Richie had closed his eyes while Bev spoke but they shot open when she mentioned Eddie, and then she just trailed off and Richie couldn’t stand her not finishing her sentence.

“What? Eddie what? Bev, what did he do? Did he… Did he say something or…”

“He sat down at the bar in one of those armchairs, and he looked so lost, Richie. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and… I don’t know, I might be wrong but he didn’t just look worried like we all were, or sad that you’d left. He looked devastated and… Guilty? That’s why I thought maybe you’d argued. Is that what happened, Rich?” 

Beverly’s tone wasn’t inquisitive or curious, it was pleading and it was clear to Richie that she wasn’t prying. All she really wanted was to help in any way she could.

“Wasn’t his fault I left. It was mine, Bev. Eddie… He didn’t do anything. We didn’t argue. I was just… Hell, I was an idiot who never learned to keep his big, fat trashmouth shut. A shocker, right? ‘Richie Trashmouth Tozier doesn’t know when to shut up! News at eleven!’”

“Rich…”

“It’s okay, Beverly. I’m over it,” Richie said, snorting quietly at himself. Yeah, right, he was over it. And pigs could fly. “I said I was done avoiding you guys, and I meant it. Can we just leave it at that? I just… I don’t want to talk about it now. Please?”

Beverly sighed. “Of course, Richie, but please, if you need to talk, you call me okay? I’m here for you. We’re all here for you. We _want_ to be! You’re stuck with us, Tozier!”

A lonely tear escaped Richie’s eye. “I know. Wouldn’t have it any other way, Marsh.”

“I’m letting you go now, but I’m tempted to call you back again immediately just to make sure you pick up! And write in the group chat, you moron! I’ve added you. You’ve silenced it, haven’t you?”

“Uhm… Well… Maybe?”

“Richie! That’s it. Hanging up now but I’ll text the group chat and if you don’t answer within a minute I promise you won’t like the consequences,” Beverly said, sternly.

“Will you spank me? Because let me tell you, that might not really be a deterrent…”

“That’s it, I’m hanging up. Talk to you _soon_ , asshole.”

Richie laughed. “Love you, Bev.” 

“I love you, too.”

The phone call ended and Richie immediately opened the group chat the Losers created and that he’d silenced straight away. He didn’t bother reading past messages, knowing full well he’d have time to do that later on, but simply removed the filter and waited for Bev’s text.

 **Bev:** You better answer this, Tozier!

 **Ben:** Bev, honey, you know he won’t…

 **Bev:** Oh but he will, if he knows what’s good for him.

 **Bev:** RICHIE!

 **Richie:** Hold your horses, Molly Ringwald. I’m here.

 **Ben:** Holy shit!

 **Mike:** Richie! 

**Bill:** What the fuck, man? Where were you? Are you okay?

 **Richie:** Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

 **Richie:** Reports about the size of my dick, otoh…

 **Bev:** Beep Beep, Richie.

 **Mike:** *eyeroll emoji*

 **Ben:** Why were we missing him, again?

 **Bill:** Shut up, Richie. Are you fucking okay?

 **Richie:** I’m fine, Billiam. Really.

 **Eddie:** *frowning emoji*

 **Richie:** Hey Spaghetti! No need to send pictures of your face. Haven’t forgotten you!

 **Eddie:** Fuck you.

 **Richie:** Been there, done that.

 **Bill:** I’m coming to see you. Be there when I arrive.

 **Richie:** What? Bill, no. There’s no need. I’m really okay.

 **Bill:** Shut up, asshole. I was going to come by sometime this week anyway.

 **Bill:** I’m done giving you space. Waiting for you to call or text. I’m coming over.

 **Bill:** See you in 20.

 **Ben:** Uh oh…

 **Mike:** You go, Bill!

 **Richie:** This is all your fault, Beverly!

 **Bev:** Yep. Hey, maybe you’ll finally get that spanking you were asking for!

 **Eddie:** *frowning emoji*

 **Richie:** Yes, Eds, I know what you look like. Didn’t we cover that already?

*

Bill arrived twenty minutes later and Richie went to open the door with a certain amount of trepidation.

“Hey, Big Bill,” he greeted, genuinely happy to see his friend. Bill glared at him before pushing him inside, entering, and shutting the door. “Please, make yourself at home! Don’t let me stop you!”

“Beep fucking beep, asshole,” Bill spat, glaring some more.

Richie was starting to sweat and tried desperately to think of some joke or other to defuse the tension but before he could settle on anything, Bill lunged at him and hugged him tight.

“You c-c-cannot do this, Rich,” Bill mumbled, face smushed against Richie’s shoulder. “You just c-c-can’t, man. We just found you… I just found you. You c-c-can’t take yourself away!”

Tears in his eyes, Richie hugged Bill back just as tight and rested his cheek on Bill’s head, uncaring of the fact that his glasses were askew and one of the sides pressed painfully against his ear.

“I’m sorry…”

Bill nodded on Richie’s shoulder and tightened his hold. Richie was finding it hard to breathe and he knew Bill’s hold was only partially responsible for it.

“If you want to kill me there’s easier ways to do it, Billiam,” Richie joked, unable to sustain the deeply emotional moment a second longer. 

Bill laughed and stepped back. “You’re an asshole, y-you know that?”

“It’s been mentioned before.”

Bill shook his head then looked around. They were still standing in the hallway but the living room was visible, as was part of the kitchen, and Richie could see Bill’s eyes widening.

“This is a really nice p-p-place you have here, Rich,” Bill commented.

“The surprise in your tone is mildly insulting. Dropping the mildly.”

“Well, I do remember the state of your b-buh-bedroom back in Derry. There were t-t-things under your bed that I think Eddie still has asthma attacks about!”

Richie grinned. “I keep all the ugly things in my closet now. Just a couple of weeks ago, that’s where I was living too after all.”

“Okay, first of all, you’re not ugly, Rich! And second…”

Richie didn’t let him finish. “Not ugly, uh? Is there something you’d like to tell me, Billiam?”

Richie pursed his lips, made kissing noises, and leaned down towards Bill who simply raised his hand and put it in Richie’s face.

“No,” Bill said, and his tone made Richie laugh so hard he had to lean back against the wall for support.

While he calmed down, Bill made his way to the living room and sat on the sofa, at ease in Richie’s house like only someone secure in the depth of his friendship with him could be. Richie loved it.

“You want a drink?”

Bill, who was still admiring (and marveling at) Richie’s decor and his taste in furniture, simply shook his head. Richie was tempted to pour some whiskey for himself but decided against it. Whatever Bill wanted to talk about, Richie knew he would need his faculties intact or he’d risk saying too much.

Walking slowly, Richie chose an armchair for himself and sat down heavily. He hooked a leg against the arm, and sprawled messily.

“You never did learn how to sit p-p-properly, did you?”

Placing a hand on his chest, Richie affected offense. 

“This is the propah way to sit, sir!” Richie’s British Guy complained.

Bill shook his head. “Despite knowing that you’ll never let me live this d-d-down, I have to say I m-muh-missed you, man. Annoying voices and all.”

Richie’s expression softened. “Missed you, too, Big Bill.”

“Then why did you s-s-shut me, us, out, Rich? Did we do s-s-something? Did something happen? I just want to understand…”

Richie closed his eyes. On second thought, maybe he should have had that drink. Too late now. “You didn’t do anything, Bill, I promise. It’s me… Just me. My issues, my big mouth, my inability to deal with the messes I make. Just me, you know?”

“Rich?” Bill called, and the softness of his tone compelled Richie to open his eyes and look at him. When he did Bill smiled, thankful. “Will you t-t-talk to me? Tell me what happened. Something t-tells me you need to say it just as much as I n-n-need to hear it. Please?”

“I don’t know how… I’m not even sure you’d believe me, Bill.”

Bill leaned forward and took one of Richie’s hands in his. “Try me.”

And Richie was so tired of running. Tired of being alone with his memories and his nightmares; alone with his doubts, his fears, and the pain of Eddie’s voice saying, “you don’t know me!” He was tired and he stopped resisting. 

He told Bill everything: How Pennywise killed Eddie, how Richie stayed behind to die with him, how a weird turtle god decided it wasn’t his time and sent him back to change the past and save Eddie. He cried and Bill knelt down in front of him and held him; and it was with his face buried in Bill’s shoulder, glasses squashed and dangerously close to snap, that Richie also confessed what he’d told Eddie and what Eddie said in reply.

When he was done, Richie simply allowed himself to be held in Bill’s arms and breathed. 

A while later, after tears were dried and Bill groaned about his knees killing him – prompting Richie to offer a blowjob joke because of course he couldn’t help himself – Bill finally spoke.

“F-f-first of all, remind me to slap you upside the head for staying b-b-behind to die in the cistern! What the fuck, man?” Bill glared, and Richie shrugged. 

“So you believe me?” Richie had to ask.

“Of c-course I do! Did you really think I wouldn’t? What? Alien clown from s-s-space doesn’t faze me but I d-d-draw the line at turtle gods that save my friends?”

Richie laughed. “Fair. That’s fair.”

“I’m so g-g-glad you were fast enough the second time and saved b-b-both your life and Eddie's, Rich.”

Richie nodded, “Hold on to the fucking feeling. What a joke. And I should know!”

“Richie…”

“Nah, Bill. ‘S okay. Never expected anything different and yeah maybe I thought it wouldn’t be this fucked up but it was always gonna hurt one way or the other,” Richie said, self-deprecating and sad.

“I think you should t-talk to Eddie,” Bill offered.

“Nope. No, sir. We’re ignoring this. Never happened. We’re okay here, sir. Nothing to see,” Richie said, and made waving motions with his hands almost as if impersonating a cop intent on keeping pedestrians off the sight of a gruesome murder.

“You d-d-didn’t see him back at the Townhouse, Rich! He d-d-didn’t look like someone who was relieved not to have to c-c-confront his best friend’s feelings for him and was content to just let some time pass b-b-before he had to! He looked crushed. Stunned. Almost like he couldn’t b-b-believe he’d had you there and lost you. We all felt that, Rich, b-b-but Eddie…” Bill trailed off but the expression on his face conveyed his thoughts perfectly: Eddie didn’t take Richie’s disappearance well at all.

A part of Richie, the asshole side of him, was glad to hear it. Glad that Eddie felt at least some of the pain he inflicted on Richie. But the bigger part of him was distressed and he felt extremely guilty at being the cause of Eddie’s hurt. If there was one thing Richie never wanted to do, it was hurting Eddie in any way.

Still, it didn’t mean Richie was willing to put himself in the same position again and give Eddie another chance to hurt him. He might not have done it on purpose, and he might have felt bad about it immediately, but Eddie still firmly shut the door on Richie’s hopes in the worst way possible and there was no way Richie would open himself up to that again.

The only way forward was to ignore it ever happened and simply go back to repressing his feelings for Eddie and think of him as just one of his best friends. He said as much to Bill, told him he was done talking about it and that he would be grateful if Bill dropped the matter, too.

Bill agreed but before he allowed Richie to change the subject he said, “Not sure Eddie will be so easy to c-c-convince, Rich. And you know that if _he_ wants to t-t-talk, there’s not much you can do to stop him.”

And that might be, but Richie could definitely try.


	3. Chapter 3

Months passed, and Richie successfully avoided talking to Eddie. They interacted in the group chat, and Richie always made sure to have a joke ready for Eddie so they could fall back on their old banter and avoid serious topics. A few times, Eddie tried to text Richie privately but those conversations were easily derailed, too. It seemed to Richie like Eddie didn’t really try too hard to talk about what happened between them and it both reassured and disappointed him.

On the one hand, it was very convenient for Richie that Eddie didn’t immediately breach the topic of their last conversation, but on the other hand… Could this mean Eddie didn’t even want to discuss it? Was he really perfectly happy with ignoring everything and pretending it never happened? Wasn’t Richie even worth the request for an explanation or maybe even the offer of an apology?

For the time being, relief about not having to open himself up to more rejection won so Richie let everything else slide. Besides, what Richie needed the most right then was to have tangible proof that Eddie was alive and well. Texts did the trick perfectly so nothing more was necessary.

Bill kept what they’d discussed for himself and Richie was immensely grateful for it. He knew he would probably tell the others about the turtle god himself at some point but that wasn’t something one could reveal on the phone or by text.

The Losers’ group chat was more active than ever and, often, it was the highlight of Richie’s days and the one thing that kept him motivated and spurred him to write his own material.

*

 **Mike:** *picture of a sunset*

 **Ben:** So beautiful.

 **Bill:** Yep, and peaceful. How you doing, Mike?

 **Mike:** Good. Like I’m finally living my best life.

 **Richie:** Life. Oh life! Ooooohh liiiiife, oh life!

 **Ben:** Here we go…

 **Richie:** Doo doo doo doot

 **Mike:** *laughing emoji*

 **Bill:** Well, at least we don’t actually have to hear him sing…

 **Richie:** I’m afraid of the dark

 **Richie:** Especially when I’m in a _sewer_

 **Bill:** RICHIE!

 **Ben:** Too soon, man

 **Bev:** You’re an idiot

 **Richie:** You guys are no fun! Come on! Sing with me!

 **Richie:** I’m a superstitious girl

 **Bill:** Girl’s right…

 **Richie:** I’m the worst in the world

 **Bev:** ACCURATE

 **Richie:** Never walk under ladders

 **Eddie:** I’ll push you off one if you keep this up

 **Richie:** Spaghetti Head! Sing with me! What’s the next line?

 **Eddie:** Shut up, Richie

 **Richie:** Come on! Sing it

 **Richie:** Sing it

 **Richie:** Siiiiiiiiiiiing iiiiiiiiiiiiiit

 **Eddie:** I keep a fucking rabbit’s tail, you asshole

 **Richie:** That’s not how I remembered it but you might have improved it!

 **Bev:** I’m regretting everything right now.

*

 **Richie:** What do you call it when a cow spies on another?

 **Richie:** A steak out!

 **Bev:** Please tell me this isn’t the best you could come up with while writing your own jokes.

 **Bill:** Rich, man, maybe you shouldn’t have fired your writers…

 **Mike:** Oh, boy

 **Ben:** I laughed

 **Richie:** That’s it! Ben’s officially my only friend now. You and me Haystack!

 **Ben:** *smiling emoji*

 **Eddie:** Wait, you’re writing your own material??

 **Bill:** Yeah, and he sucks 

**Richie:** I’m a pro, Billiam! Come over here and I’ll show you how good I am at sucking *winking emoji*

*

 **Bev:** I’m divorced!!! Freedom!

 **Bill:** Hell yeah!

 **Mike:** Congratulations, Bev!

 **Richie:** Congrats, _Ben_! Have fun celebrating tonight!

 **Bev:** You’re assuming we didn’t already celebrate, Rich

 **Richie:** To quote our resident famous writer, hell yeah, Ringwald! Get that D!

 **Ben:** What D?

 **Richie:** *long string of laughing emojis*

 **Eddie:** You’re disgusting, Richie.

 **Eddie:** Congrats, Bev!

 **Richie:** *another long string of laughing emojis*

*

 **Ben:** Losers listen up! Can you free up this coming weekend? I have a cabin in Montana and I’d like to host the first official, non-life-threatening, reunion of the Losers Club

 **Ben:** You guys in?

 **Richie:** Haystack, how are you so cute?

 **Eddie:** Hey!

 **Richie:** What?

 **Eddie:** Nothing …

 **Eddie:** I’m in, Ben.

 **Richie:** No, seriously. What?

 **Eddie:** Nothing, I said

 **Mike:** Leave it alone, Rich

 **Mike:** Oh and I’m in, too, Ben

 **Bev:** I’m basically already here

 **Ben:** *smiling emoji*

 **Ben:** Richie? You didn’t say if you’re coming or not

 **Bev:** Don’t you dare, Tozier!

 **Richie:** What? Talk about cumming? Would I, Marsh?

 **Eddie:** You just did, asshole

 **Richie:** No but really, Eds, what did you mean before? Uh?

 **Eddie:** Drop it

 **Bill:** I’ll be there, Ben!

 **Ben:** Rich?

 **Richie:** What? Oh, yes of course I’m in. 

**Ben:** That’s great, guys! Can’t wait!

 **Bill:** See you then!

 **Mike:** See ya

 **Bev:** See you later, boys

 **Eddie:** Later

 **Richie:** Yeah, but Eds?

 **Eddie:** What, Richie, what??

 **Richie:** You’re still the cutest

*  
Ben’s cabin was, simply put, a masterpiece in architecture. It was big but perfectly integrated in the landscape, seemingly rustic yet elegant and tasteful on the outside with a very home-y, cozy, and warm feeling inside. Richie fell in love with it at first sight and instantly decided to get himself invited back as often as he could.

Richie had expected Beverly to be the first one out of the door when he arrived at the cabin, but it was actually Ben the first to greet him. He grabbed Richie and hugged him so tight it was almost painful.

“Careful, Haystack. You’re at risk of damaging the merchandise,” Richie joked, and was happy to hear Ben laugh. 

Ben stepped back. “It’s so good to see you, Rich. Don’t disappear again, okay? Please?”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Richie hoped with all his might not to start crying right there and then, but luckily Beverly helped him.

“Bare your nuts, Tozier, here I come,” she yelled and, just as she’d predicted, Richie squealed and hid behind Ben. Without much success since Ben doubled over laughing.

“I’m sorry, Bevvie, please!” Richie screamed but he was already starting to laugh, too.

Beverly grinned, settled for a slap to the back of Richie’s head, then launched into his arms. Richie held her, hid his face in her hair, and allowed a few tears to escape.

“I really am sorry,” he whispered, and she nodded against his shoulder.

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

Richie breathed deeply before letting her go and smiling sheepishly down at her.

Bill and Mike hugged him next, and then Richie was left facing Eddie. He knew he couldn’t get away with a simple pat on the back, that he would have to hug Eddie, too, or his friends would get even more suspicious – and Bill would probably look at him with the disappointed expression Richie learned to hate since they were kids.

Besides, Eddie was looking up at him with a mix of trepidation, guilt, and relief at seeing him, and Richie was only human.

“Hey, Eds,” he greeted before enveloping Eddie in a one-armed hug. He’d planned for it to last a few seconds and then Richie would think of some joke to mask his emotion. Eddie unfortunately had other plans. He hugged Richie’s middle with both his arms and held on until Richie couldn’t do anything else but hold him back.

Richie thought he could feel Eddie’s body shake but he couldn’t be sure not to be the one trembling so he didn’t remark on it, and instead he tried to get the idea that Eddie might be feeling as emotional as he felt out of his head. And even if Eddie was emotional, surely it was due to the fact that he was seeing Richie again for the first time after they killed the clown, and certainly not for the same reason Richie was.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked, face almost completely pressed into Richie’s chest.

“I’m good. You?”

Eddie released him and stepped back. “Fine. It’s… Good to see you.”

And no. Okay? No. Richie couldn’t do this. There was no way he could just stand there, look into Eddie’s earnest eyes, hear him say he was glad to see him and just put up with that.

“Awwww, did you miss me, Spaghetti? I’m sorry I haven’t been around much, but your mom is demanding and she needs to be satisfied, you know? She just won’t share me…”

Eddie pushed him back with a disgusted expression. “She’s dead, dipshit. Can you at least pretend to have a little respect?”

Richie opened his mouth to offer some retort or other so they could really get into their banter but Beverly prevented that from happening by taking Richie’s arm and guiding him inside the house.

And here he was now, in the guest bedroom, freshly showered and wearing only a towel, trying to decide if he wanted to take a nap or dress up again and go look for his friends.

A knock on his door startled him.

“Come in,” he invited. 

Beverly poked her head in. “You’re naked,” she said as soon as she was fully inside.

“Am not. I’m wearing a towel. I notice you’re not looking away either, so it must not be a problem,” Richie winked.

“I’ve seen better.”

Richie put a hand on his naked chest and gasped. “You wound me, Ringwald.”

Beverly sighed then simply crossed to the other side of the bed and lay down beside Richie.

She rolled to her side and stared at Richie until he mirrored her position and they looked at one another.

“What?” Richie asked, flushing a bit at the intensity in her gaze.

“He missed you. We all did. And I don’t get why you can accept it from us but not from Eddie. Did you have to shoot him down like that?”

Richie tried to roll back away from her gaze, but Beverly stopped him with a hand on his face.

“Rich, I’m not trying to scold you or anything. I just want you to talk to me. You said you would, remember? Please? Like we used to?”

Richie closed his eyes, sighed, and nodded. “I’m in love with him,” he confessed in a whisper, and he could feel Beverly’s hand gently caressing his face. He opened his eyes to gauge at her expression and found only love and understanding. “You’re not surprised.”

Beverly shrugged and released Richie’s face. “I think I always suspected,” she said with a smile. “The amount of pigtails pulled was frankly very telling.”

“I really, really, don’t know what you mean,” Richie stuck his tongue out at her and she giggled.

“Does he know?” Beverly asked then.

“He does, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck.”

“I don’t believe that! Rich…”

“Beverly,” Richie interrupted, and something in his tone silenced Beverly. “Believe it. That day, after Neibolt? Eddie and I fell behind, remember? I confessed my stupid feelings to him and he wanted no part of it.”

“Richie, I… I don’t know exactly what he said but going by his reaction not only at the Townhouse but also back at the quarry after he realized you weren’t going to jump in the water, I just… Something doesn’t add up. And you don’t have to tell me what he said or anything, but is it possible you just misunderstood?”

“Misunderstood?” Richie gasped. “I gather all my fucking courage – and I truly had not much left at the time, mind – to tell him I’ve been in love with him my whole life and you know what he says? _You can’t, Rich! You can’t love me because you don’t know me and I don’t know you!_ ,” Richie relayed Eddie’s words with a nasal, awful impression of his friend, and then let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t know him. I don’t fucking know him! Me! Just like that, just like… He didn’t only reject my feelings, he rejected _me_. Made me feel like I’m nobody to him, just someone he used to be friends with in the past but that has no place in his life now. As if my fucking feelings can’t matter because they belong to a past he was perfectly fine with forgetting…”

Instinctively, Beverly closed the distance between them and gathered Richie in her arms. He sobbed and she gently rubbed his naked back, murmuring endearments and comforting him.

After a while, Beverly’s hold became too much and Richie knew he had to say something to break the moment.

“If I get a hard on, Bev, know that I’m thinking about Ben,” he said, and grinned when she instantly rolled away from him and glared.

“You’re such a little shit,” she said, amusement clear in her tone.

“There is nothing little about me, Marsh. _Nothing_. Want me to prove it?”

“Keep that thing away from me, Tozier!” She yelled when Richie’s hands went to his towel suggestively.

Richie cackled.

Beverly waited for him to calm down. “Rich,” she said then, and he looked at her. “What Eddie said… I understand that it hurt to hear. It would hurt me too if he said that to me. It would feel like he was wiping away years of friendship in a swift motion, and I can’t even imagine how much it would hurt if Ben said something like that to me. But…”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Richie tried, but Beverly was unrelenting.

“But, are you sure he was finished? Are you sure Eddie said all he had to say on the matter or did you just stop listening to him and blocked out whatever else he wanted to say? Because, Richie, even if Eddie’s intent was to reject you – and I’m still not convinced that was it – I really can’t wrap my head around the fact that he would be so callous about it. No. There has to be something more. There _has_ to!”

Beverly had a point. And Eddie _was_ still speaking when Richie let the pain take over and stopped his words from breaking through – and possibly make more damage. What was Eddie trying to say? The bitter side of Richie maliciously suggested that Eddie only wanted to twist the knife more, but Beverly was right. Eddie wasn’t like that. He could be scathing and ferocious when he wanted to, and often enough his cutting remarks were addressed to Richie, but it only happened when Eddie was hurting or in retaliation to one of Richie’s some stupid jokes; in all honesty, that was usually a reaction Richie himself hoped to elicit (because it was fucking hilarious.)

Eddie didn’t have a malicious bone in his body and so maybe, just maybe Richie should have given him the chance to finish his thought that fateful day.

“I don’t know…” He conceded. “But I’m not sure I want to risk opening myself up to more of that, Bev. I know you’re about to tell me I need to talk to Eddie, Bill said the same often enough, but I _can’t_. I’m sorry, I can’t…”

“Then let him do the work. Let him open himself up, let him talk to you. You just have to listen and if you don’t like what you hear, I’m authorizing you to make some idiotic mom joke, run away, and come hide in my bedroom. Ben will be there, too,” Bev finished with a suggestive wink.

Richie laughed. “Yay threesome!” He yelled, and Bev snorted.

“You wish.” 

“That I do, Marsh. That I do.”

“Rich? Do we have a deal?” Beverly’s hand found its way to Richie’s cheek once more.

“About the threesome, or…”

Beverly slapped him softly.

“Ouch! Alright, alright, no need to resort to violence! If Eddie wants to corner me somewhere and talk, I’ll listen, okay?”

Beverly searched his eyes as if to make sure he was being sincere and whatever she saw satisfied her because she nodded, patted Richie’s cheek, and got up.

“Now get dressed. Dinner’s almost ready and I bet the others are waiting on us so we can eat.”

Richie jumped off the bed and stood beside it, ramrod straight and with his hand raised to his forehead simulating a salute. “Ma’am. Yes, ma’am!” 

Beverly rolled her eyes and left.

*

When Richie entered the dining room, all the other Losers were already sitting at the round table. There was only one seat open and Richie was glad to see that it was between Bill and Beverly. Eddie was sitting on the other side of Bill and that meant that Richie wouldn’t be forced to sit beside him or look at him throughout the meal. 

His relief must have shown on his face because Beverly smiled and winked at him while Richie made his way to the table. Their discussion left him feeling very raw and Richie was glad that Beverly understood that and tried to put him at ease as much as she was able.

“Finally, man!” Mike said when Richie sat down. 

“Nice of you to show, asshole,” was instead Eddie’s comment.

“I would have shown you even more, Eds, but somebody wouldn’t let me come down wearing my comfy towel…”

Various groans and a “T-T-Thanks for that, Bev!” met Richie’s comment and he grinned, satisfied.

“Well, I’m here now so let this new meeting of the Losers Club begin!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Richie refers to in the group chat is "Life" by Des'ree :)
> 
> Also, I promise this is the last of the foreplay. Next chapter we get to the main event!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! Long chapter this time. I initially thought to divide it into two but quickly decided I didn't want to interrupt the flow. I hope you all don't mind the longer chapter ;)

After dinner, Richie had the beginnings of a panic attack when Ben suggested they play Spin The Bottle and then sighed in enormous relief when both Bill and Beverly vetoed the idea. Unfortunately, the relief was short-lived because Truth or Dare was suggested immediately afterwards – because apparently they never graduated from their teenage years – and no one really complained. Richie would have, but never in his life had he backed away from that particular game and starting then would have been too suspicious. 

And that was how, after everyone helped clear the table and load the dishwasher, Richie found himself sitting on one of the sofas in Ben’s living room waiting for his fate. It truly didn’t help that Eddie sat right beside him this time and had no intention of actually sitting away from Richie. Nope. Eddie’s leg was so close to his own that Richie felt its warmth. 

With no intention whatsoever to pick Truth – Richie seldom did, even when he was a kid, too scared of the questions his friends could come up with and of the answers he might be forced to give – Richie only hoped the rest of the Losers would be kind with their Dares.

The game started out innocently enough, with Ben going first, making the huge mistake of picking Truth, and then having to babble through answering a question about his first time with Bev, while she laughed her ass off. Richie fucking loved her.

Mike was dared to lean out of a window and sing the National Anthem out loud, and Bill stammered through a recollection of the first time he masturbated. 

Beverly was then dared to run upstairs, change all her clothes, then come back down in less than two minutes. She cheated and ran back down wearing a pair of socks and a night gown whereas before she was completely dressed, but she insisted no one ever said she had to put on pants and a shirt again, and they let it pass.

When Richie’s turn came, he’d relaxed enough that most of his doubts about playing the game had vanished. Plus, his dare would come from Beverly so Richie knew he had nothing to worry about.

“Dare me, Marsh!” 

Beverly thought about it for a moment, then smiled. “I dare you to keep completely silent for five minutes!” 

Mike laughed. “You lose, Richie!”

“He’ll never make it!” Was Ben’s comment, and Bill agreed.

“It’s just not gonna happen,” Eddie said, with a smirk.

“Oh you’re all on! I’m gonna show you, gonna show all of you. I won’t make a sound. Not a peep. I will not talk and you’ll all have to eat your words. And then…”

“Didn’t the dare start, yet?” Eddie asked. 

“Yeah, Bev. Doesn’t the dare start as soon as you p-p-propose it?” Bill had a huge grin on his face.

“Well,” Beverly started, but Richie interrupted.

“Hey no! No! It’s wasn’t on! You didn’t say it started already! That’s cheating!”

“Calm down, Rich,” Beverly smiled. “You’re right. I’m setting the timer now…”

“Okay, so I can still win this thing, right? I mean, I’m still…”

“Aaaaand 3…2…1. Beep beep, Richie!” Beverly yelled, and everyone clapped.

Richie glared at his friends but didn’t make a single sound.

“Okay, so while Richie is incapacitated,” Bill said, laughing when Richie flipped him off, “What do you guys s-s-say we go on with the game? Your turn, Eddie, right?”

Eddie nodded, and chose Truth.

Bill glanced briefly at Richie and he felt his own eyes widen. Bill wouldn’t, would he?

“What’s your f-f-favorite thing about each of us? S-S-Something you like, something that makes us _us_ in your head,” Bill asked.

Richie wasn’t sure where Bill was going with this but he didn’t like it. And he couldn’t even do anything to stop it or defuse the tension! Fucking silent dare!

“Okay,” Eddie thought for a moment. “Bill, my favorite thing about you is your strength. It always has been. How you take things onto your shoulders and carry them even when they hurt.”

Bill smiled, “Thanks, Eddie.”

Nodding, Eddie continued. “Ben, I have to say your kindness. You have this innate goodness that makes everyone feel at ease with you.”

Ben couldn’t sit still after that, and leaned forward to give Eddie a hug. Richie could hear him mumble a soft thanks into Eddie’s ear. When Ben sat back down, Eddie continued.

“Mike, it’s your ability to keep the faith even in the face of trauma, abandon, and adversity. You were our memory and faced everything alone for so long, yet you never wavered. You kept the Losers alive and we wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for you. Thanks, bud,” Eddie said, with a smile, and Richie could see Mike nodding back and catching a tear at the corner of his eye.

Everyone joined in thanking Mike, and Richie offered him a hand since he still couldn’t speak.

“Bev,” Eddie continued. “My favorite thing about you is that I never need to use too many words when I’m talking to you because you always know what I mean, what I’m feeling, what I need from you. I think my favorite thing about you, Bev, is… well, you.”

“Love you, Eds,” Beverly said, smiling softly.

“I love you, too,” Eddie replied, and then he turned to look at Richie. “Rich,” he said, and Richie could feel sweat running down his back and he knew that his expression had to closely resemble that of a deer caught in headlights. Or was it _deadlights_? “Richie, my favorite thing about you is your heart. You are… you… uhm… Yeah, so my favorite thing is your heart.”

Eddie looked at him with a soft, caring expression that only barely betrayed the embarrassment he must be feeling at being put on the spot like that, and Richie was forced to look away. For the first time since his dare had been issued, Riche was glad he was forbidden from saying something in reply.

If he could speak, Richie was sure the only thing out of his mouth would be, “So what you’re saying, Eds, is that your favorite thing about me is, in fact, you, uh?” And that would be bad. It would be a disaster.

“Rich?” Eddie called, but Richie couldn’t bring himself to look back at him.

“Hey, Richie, your five minutes are up, babe,” Beverly’s voice penetrated his thoughts and Richie looked at her. “You did it! Boys, I think we need to eat our words now!”

Richie was grateful to Beverly for defusing the tension and grinned when the Losers grudgingly had to admit that they’d been wrong and that Richie actually could be silent if he had the right motivation.

“Something tells me Eddie helped with it,” Richie heard Ben mumble, but decided to pretend he hadn’t.

Before he could make a joke about what other things he might be asked to do that would keep him in silence even when his mouth was open, Richie was interrupted by Bill.

“Eddie, t-t-that was beautiful, man. You r-r-really _do_ know us well.”

Richie’s head shot towards Bill and he glared. Bill met his eyes and shrugged. Richie could feel Eddie’s eyes boring holes in his face but he refused to look at him.

Ben came to his rescue when he proposed they abandoned the game and watch a movie. Everybody agreed, and they put on _Ghostbusters_. Before the movie started, Richie excused himself to the bathroom and when he came back he sat down in the armchair so he wouldn’t have to sit beside anyone else. 

*

Richie was once again alone in the bedroom. He’d stripped down to his boxers and was wearing a T-shirt that Beverly sent him as a joke and that read, ‘Closets are for brooms’. He was just about to slip under the covers and shut the world – and Eddie – out for the night when somebody knocked at his door.

Sighing, Richie went to open and his eyes widened when he saw Eddie standing there. 

“I’m coming in,” Eddie said before shouldering his way into the room.

“Sure, don’t mind me. This is just my room after all.”

“It’s not your room, asshole. It’s Ben’s room.”

“Is it? I don’t see him anywhere. And believe me, if Ben was here, I would be looking straight at him. And wearing less clothes, maybe,” Richie wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Are you going to close that door or do you plan on standing there all night?”

“I was planning on going to bed,” Richie said, closing the door and making his way towards Eddie. “But apparently you have other plans. Will you share with the class?”

“What did Bill mean before?” Eddie asked, and Richie’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah, no. We’re not doing this. You want to know what Bill meant, you go to his room and invade _his_ space.”

“Am I invading your space, Rich?” Eddie asked, dejectedly.

Richie took off his glasses so he could rub at his eyes. When he donned them again, he looked down at Eddie. “No, Eds. Of course, not. You can… You can stay, if you want. But I’m not talking about Bill or that stupid game. Okay?”

“Okay. Can I talk about something else?”

“About what?” Richie asked, even if the answer was clear as day. _Listen to him,_ Bev said, and Richie promised her he would so he knew he was fucked.

“That day, before the quarry…”

“Eds,” Richie started because he might have promised but this wasn’t going to be easy for him.

“No, Richie, _please_! Let me finish! Let me speak!”

Sighing, Richie sat on the bed and motioned for Eddie to go on. Eddie placed himself right in front of him and didn’t start talking until Richie looked up at him.

“I don’t know if you heard me that day. I don’t know if…” Eddie sighed. “Okay, let’s assume you didn’t hear me and let me say it all over again. When you said… When you talked about the way you felt for me, I said you didn’t know me. That I didn’t know you. No, hey, Rich, please look at me?” 

The pleading in Eddie’s tone caught Richie up with the fact that he apparently closed his eyes without realizing it, or deciding to. He opened them up and looked back at Eddie, his sharp intake of breath indication enough that he could see the pain that clearly shone in Richie’s eyes.

“I don’t think you understand what I mean by that.”

“I’m sorry, but what the fuck else can you mean by ‘you don’t know me’?” Richie couldn’t help himself.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to imply you were a stranger to me! I didn’t realize that’s how you’d take it, though I see now that you did… I tried to explain myself better but you started walking away and I’m not sure you were listening.”

“I’m listening now…”

Eddie took a deep breath and nodded. “You were my entire world when we were kids. It was all you. Well, Bill and Stan too, of course, but mostly you. Then Ben, Bev, and Mike arrived and my world got bigger but you were always at the center of it. Ever since you gave me that crayon, remember? You didn’t have to do that, you didn’t even have to notice I’d broken mine and were upset. But you did. You always paid attention to me, and I knew from that day that I wanted it. I wanted your attention.”

Eddie stopped for breath, and Richie was suddenly aware of the fact that it would be a great idea if he also remembered to breathe.

“There wasn’t a thing I didn’t know about you back then, not a thing you didn’t know about me. We spent all our time together, it would have been impossible not to know every detail of each other’s lives. But then… Richie, we left and we forgot. We lived our lives separately, made our way through the world on our own, and there is so much that’s changed. So much that I went through, that I’m sure _you_ went through, that we don’t know about. Here, let me…”

Eddie trailed off and lifted a corner of his shirt baring one of his sides, “You see this?” He said pointing at a patch of scarred, raised skin.

“What happened? Did you hurt yourself?” Richie wanted to reach out and touch the scar but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I had a tattoo removed.”

Richie made his best impression of a gaping fish to date, he was sure of it. “A tattoo? Sorry, did you say you had a _tattoo_? And then you had it _removed_? Wha… why… how… what was it?”

Richie bit back the urge to also ask _“Who are you??”_ and… oh. _Oh!_

Eddie smirked, probably glad to have proven his point. “I had this teacher at Uni. She was very inspirational and always told us to go after what we wanted, not to be afraid of going out there and doing anything we thought could make us happy. ‘Just do it!’ She used to say and so one night, I…”

Richie couldn’t help himself. He started cackling.

“What the fuck, asshole?”

“I’m sorry… Shit, I’m so… sorry, Eds,” Richie offered in between laughs. “It’s just… oh boy! You went out and had a stupid _Nike_ ad tattooed on your ribs?”

“No! I… Oh for fuck’s sake! Richie!”

But Richie was too far gone to care, he doubled over, slapping at his knee and wheezing like he was the one with asthma, and just let it all out. After a while, he could hear Eddie giggle, too, which did nothing to help calming himself down.

It took a while but in the end Richie sat back up, wiped his tears underneath his glasses, and looked at Eddie.

“Ah, Spaghetti Man. Thank you. I needed that.”

“Glad to be of service, asswipe. And don’t call me that.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry you had the thing removed. I’d have loved to see it. Plus, it must have hurt. Going in as well as getting it out,” Richie commented.

“I didn’t feel a thing while I was getting the tattoo because I was drunk off my ass, but the removal? Hurt like all hell. And it took more than one session to have it all gone. Never, ever again.”

“But why didn’t you keep it? I don’t…”

“I freaked out,” Eddie revealed. “I woke up the next day, looked at myself in the mirror, and had a full blown panic attack. Did that guy sterilize the needle? Was the parlor even sanitized? And the ink that he’d used on me, what if it gave me some sort of illness or allergic reaction? What if the tattoo itself got infected?”

“Oh, Eds…” Richie sighed and looked up at Eddie. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie waved a hand. “I know. I spent the whole day at the hospital getting my blood tested and requesting every other test I could think of, and then one of the doctors there gave me the name of a dermatologist for the removal. I met Myra there, you know? But that’s another story. What I meant to say here is… you see? You see, Richie? You could have known I’d freak out the following day, but would you have believed I’d get a tattoo in the first place? That in the moment I _wanted_ it? And I did, Richie, I really wanted to get it.”

Richie nodded slowly. “I guess… Maybe if I’d been there, I’d be the one to suggest the tattoo in the first place! Maybe I wouldn’t have let you get the removal, either. But… I suppose… You’re right, I was shocked when you first said you got tattooed.”

“If you’d been there, you’d have talked to me about it. And maybe I never would have gotten the tattoo because you’d have known what the morning after would bring and you would have made me see it. You’d look out for me. But not in a controlling way, not like… You wouldn’t do that. If I’d insisted on getting one, you’d have been fine with it. You’d have been holding my hand at the parlor, at the hospital, and during the removal sessions. But you weren’t there, like I wasn’t there for a lot of the things that I’m sure happened to you, and so we confronted them alone. And they shaped us, they did, but we couldn’t be there to witness all the ways we were changed by those experiences so we can’t know. We can’t say we know one another today… Not until we take the time to talk about everything that happened to us and catch up with each other again!”

Richie, who started shaking his head when Eddie said once more that they didn’t know one another, suddenly caught up with the last thing Eddie said.

“I… You… What?”

“Yes, you piece of shit. _That’s_ what I was trying to say that day! And I know I fucked up… I’m so sorry, but I… I don’t want you to say you love me if you’re thinking of thirteen year old me! If you say it… _When_ you say it again, I want you to mean me. Me, as I am now. With new neurosis, old scars, and more baggage than it’s worth!” Eddie said, stepping closer to Richie until their knees touched. “And I want to know you. Who you are now, all the ways you’ve changed and how you’re still the same. Rich…”

Richie opened his legs, took Eddie’s hands in his and, when he was finally right in front of him, he buried his face in Eddie’s stomach and held him tight. Eddie’s hands immediately went to his unruly hair, and he caressed Richie’s head.

“Sorry,” Richie whispered his apology to the middle of Eddie’s body, and could feel Eddie laugh.

“That’s my line, asshole.”

Richie snorted. “Yeah, well, I am too. I could have stayed, could have listened. Shouldn’t have avoided you, all you Losers…”

“Yes, that’s true. But I get it now, Rich. I fucked up. And I should have hopped on a plane, come to LA and _made_ you listen. I wanted to. But… there were things I needed to take care of in New York before I could do that. And then… You… In the group chat and everything… It looked like you didn’t want to talk about it and I didn’t know how to breach the subject again without having you go back into hiding,” Eddie’s hands gently caressed Richie’s scalp throughout his speech, and Richie didn’t want them to ever stop.

Still, he felt like he needed to look at Eddie so he leaned back. “What things did you need to do in New York?”

“Ask for a divorce, move out, find some place to stay, try to decide if I want to go back to my job after my leave of absence runs out. Things like that,” Eddie said.

“You’re getting a divorce?”

Eddie sighed. “Of course I’m fucking getting a divorce, Rich! You think I could stay in that marriage after… well, after everything? The clown, the memories… _You_. It’s all in the past now, anyway.”

“What? You mean, the divorce? In the past? Who the hell’s your lawyer and how many mobsters did he keep out of prison?” 

“I had a prenup, asshole. And Myra didn’t contest it so it was easy. In the end, she was shocked but didn’t put up much of a fight. I guess I wasn’t the only one stuck in a loveless marriage…”

Eddie trailed off and Richie pulled him back against him. This time, though, Eddie’s hands cupped his face and lifted it up. Richie’s eyes immediately went to Eddie’s lips and he shivered when he saw Eddie wetting them.

“Rich?”

“Yeah… Yes, Eddie. _Please._ ”

Eddie kissed him, and Richie whimpered. 

“You okay?” Eddie asked, lips against Richie’s.

Richie nodded and locked their lips again, this time deepening the kiss. His hands found their way underneath Eddie’s shirt and Richie caressed his smooth back; Eddie’s hands buried in Richie’s hair and tightened when he could feel Richie’s thumb gently stroke over the rough patch of skin the removal of the tattoo left behind.

“I want… Rich, I want…”

“Anything,” Richie said in a breath. “Take anything.”

Eddie pushed Richie back on the bed and lay down on top of him. One of Eddie’s thighs slid in between Richie’s legs and provided a delicious weight against his crotch. Suddenly, Richie felt the need to feel Eddie’s skin on his own so he swiftly removed both their shirts. 

They kept kissing while they rubbed against each other and Richie tried his best to hold on, not wanting this to be over too soon. Unfortunately, he didn’t take into consideration Eddie’s sudden urge to give him a hickey and, as soon as he felt Eddie’s mouth suck a deep bruise on his collarbone, Richie came undone.

“Fuck… fuck! Eddie!”

Eddie kept sucking and pressed his leg firmly against Richie’s cock while he rode out his orgasm. Richie’s brain short-circuited and it took a while for it to come back online.

“Shit, man,” he said as soon as he was able. “That was fucking embarrassing…”

Eddie laughed against Richie’s shoulder. “Fucking hot, more likely.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Rich,” Eddie smiled, and Richie had to kiss him again.

“Now you, Eds. What do you want? You want my hand, my mouth, you want to stay like this and rub one off on me. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

Eddie looked at him. “Your… uhm… Your mouth?”

Richie’s eyes darkened. “You want that? Because I do. Fuck, Eds, I want that so much. May I?”

Eddie bit his lip but tentatively nodded, so Richie gently rolled him on the bed and kissed him. He sat up and smiled down at him but the new position afforded Richie a perfect view of Eddie’s chest, and he stopped dead. Eddie’s chest was smooth, skin tanned and toned – and fuck those abs where really something! Yet Richie couldn’t bring himself to appreciate the view as well as he wanted to.

Everything he could think of, everything he could see was a bloody, gaping hole right in the middle of Eddie’s chest. Richie could smell the blood, could see Eddie’s blank gaze, could feel the weight of his lifeless body in his own arms. 

Overwhelmed, he let out an anguished sob, rolled back away from Eddie, and curled on his side. Distantly, Richie could feel the slight discomfort of his wet boxers – that he’d been able to easily ignore when the promise of Eddie’s cock in his mouth was at the forefront – and he could also feel Eddie’s shocked voice calling his name. Still, all Richie was able to do was remove his glasses before hiding his face in the pillow.

“Rich… Fuck. Richie, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?”

Eddie curled in behind Richie’s body and hugged his middle. Richie wanted to reach down and hold Eddie’s hand but he wasn’t able to.

“Please, Richie. Please, talk to me. What’s happening to you? Are you… Did I… Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry, I… I’m not good at this and…”

The hurt in Eddie’s tone was finally able to shake Richie out of his daze and he immediately turned in Eddie’s arms so that he could face him. Eddie’s eyes were wide and full of confusion and worry, and something else that was akin to shame and that Richie instantly hated.

“No! No, Eds… You didn’t. You’re perfect. You’re so perfect… It’s just. I…” Richie sighed, trailing off.

“Just what? Talk to me, Rich. Please?”

Richie did. He told Eddie everything, staring at his unblemished chest the whole time, curling his hand on his hip, and trying with all his might to hold the tears back: Richie told Eddie about the cistern, the turtle, and the pain of losing him.

Eddie let him speak, all the while caressing his hair and breathing softly, and when Richie was done, Eddie lifted his head and kissed him. Richie immediately kissed back but Eddie didn’t allow him to deepen the kiss. He pulled back and looked Richie in the eye. Their faces were so close that Richie could see him perfectly even without glasses.

“You saved my life.”

“You saved mine before that, Eds. You…”

Eddie interrupted. “You _gave me back my life_ , Rich. You stayed behind with me – and we will have words about that because, what the fucking fuck, Richie?? – and you were able to go back and change things. You were strong, and brave, and you kept being brave when it was all over, while you had to still be reeling from what you went through. Yet you still came out to us and then told me how you felt… You were so brave, Rich, and I… Fuck, I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

“No! Eddie, no, you didn’t! I didn’t let you finish… I didn’t listen…”

“Yeah, maybe, but… Rich, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just…” Eddie’s face was full of sadness and regret, and Richie couldn’t stand the sight of it. He knew he had to do something, and at the same time he knew he wouldn’t be able to bear this emotional moment for much longer. 

“Make it up to me,” he said, and Eddie frowned.

“Okay… Uhm… How?”

“Let me suck your dick,” Richie grinned.

Eddie gasped, and Richie could definitely feel his cock, that had softened while Richie broke down, getting back to half-mast.

Richie closed the distance between their faces, and whispered, “I want to suck you off. I want to make you feel good.”

Eddie’s cock was definitely interested, Richie could feel it, but Eddie still looked a bit uncertain. “You don’t… Richie, you just told me… We were just talking about… Maybe now’s not the time for that. I’m… Don’t you need to…”

“You want to give me what I need, Eds?” Eddie nodded so Richie continued. “I need to feel as much of you as I can right now. I need to see you alive and I need to feel like I’m making you happy…”

“You always do,” Eddie smiled, and Richie kissed him softly.

“Then let me do it now, too. Please? Only if you want to, of course, but…”

“Fuck, of course I want to! I didn’t…”

Richie looked at him. “Didn’t what?”

“Get many blowjobs in my life,” Eddie whispered.

Richie instantly decided to stop that train of thought. “Then _let me blow your mind_ ,” he singed, as off-key as he could, and winked suggestively.

It worked. Eddie laughed out loud and leaned back on the bed, catching his breath. Taking advantage of the new position, Richie knelt down on the floor between Eddie’s legs. His laugh turned into a gasp and it was music to Richie’s ears.

“May I?” He asked, and Eddie nodded eagerly, sitting up to see Richie better.

Richie didn’t have the patience to undress Eddie properly so he just freed his cock and immediately wrapped his lips around the head. Eddie’s groan went straight to Richie’s cock, sticky and pressed against his wet boxers, but Richie knew he wouldn’t be able to get hard again. It was too soon after his last orgasm and Richie’s emotions were still in turmoil so it wasn’t happening, but he didn’t mind. Eddie’s pleasure was all Richie wanted.

Richie loved sucking cock. He knew he was good at it, and he learned many tricks at the gloryholes he’d frequently visited since they afforded him the anonymity he needed and did nothing to disabuse him of the notion that he should be ashamed of his wants and needs, and that they had to be kept hidden as he himself did.

Still, something good came from the experience because now he could put all his skills to good use and give Eddie the best blowjob of his life.

Richie sucked, licked, stroked, hummed and enjoyed Eddie’s noises and the feel of his hands tightening in Richie’s hair. He would have been content to kneel there worshipping Eddie’s cock for hours, but all too soon Richie could hear Eddie’s breathless warning.

“Close… Ah fuck… Richie, I’m so close. I’m…”

Richie gave a curt nod before sinking down on Eddie’s cock and taking it into his throat. Immediately, he could feel it spurt and swallowed reflexively, thanking the countless faceless men who’d taught him how to suppress his gag reflex when he needed to. Eddie’s deep, satisfied groan rewarded Richie’s efforts and filled him with pride. 

He was the one to make Eddie feel this good. These noises were for him. It was Richie’s name that Eddie was screaming now, his hair he was gripping, his mouth that gave him all this pleasure. The sensation was almost better than an orgasm for Richie.

Once Eddie calmed down, Richie released his cock to avoid over-stimulating it and sat back on his heels, decidedly ignoring the twinge in his knees. He smiled up at Eddie.

“Fuck, Richie. _Fuck_.”

Richie grinned. “Nope. Blowjob, Eds. Keep up.”

“Asshole…”

“Again, Eds, nope. Cock, actually. You see, a blowjob…” Richie started, in his professor voice, but Eddie was having none of that and grabbed at him.

Richie laughed but let himself be pulled against Eddie. Eddie kissed him and licked into his mouth, and Richie moaned at the sensation.

“You were right,” Richie whispered against Eddie’s lips.

“About?”

“I don’t know you.”

Eddie reeled back as if struck and looked horrified. “Rich…”

“I mean, I just sucked your brains out through your cock and yet you just licked my tongue! You didn’t even insist I wash my teeth so thoroughly the only thing you can taste is mint! Who the hell are you, dude?”

Eddie pushed him back and Richie fell on the floor, cackling.

“First, don’t call me ‘dude’ while we’re having sex.” Eddie said, getting up. Vision blurry given the lack of glasses, Richie still noted that Eddie didn’t even bother to tuck his cock back in. And, okay, it was probably because he didn’t want to get his clothes dirty but still, _hot_. “And second, beep beep, Richie.”

Richie laughed some more.

“Get the fuck up now, I need a shower and I can see the mess in your boxers from here. Gross.”

“If you need a shower, why do _I_ have to get up?” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Thought you might want to join me but if you’d rather stay on the floor…” 

Eddie shrugged and started walking towards the bathroom. Richie scrambled to get on his feet and follow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The T-shirt Richie is wearing, the one with "Closets are for brooms" written on it, is a homage to QaF US' very own Debbie Novotny. And the line is from the song "Let me blow ya mind" by Eve ft. Gwen Stefani.
> 
> Final chapter will be posted at the end of the week. Thank you so much, guys!


	5. Chapter 5

Since Richie wasn’t exactly a princess in a fairytale – slander, if you asked him – things didn’t magically fix themselves. It took work, it took therapy, it took patience and sleepless nights.

That first night in Ben’s cabin was just the beginning and, while Richie couldn’t have asked for a better one, it was still just a small step in the right direction. 

After the extremely quick shower they took together, Richie and Eddie lay under the covers and fell asleep in each other’s arms but their slumber didn’t last long. With all his emotions frazzled and the memories of Eddie’s death still front and center in Richie’s mind after he’d made himself talk about it, Richie of course had a nightmare and woke himself and Eddie up with his own blood-curling screams.

Eddie immediately took him in his arms and started comforting him but before Richie could say a word, the door of the bedroom sprang open and the other Losers stumbled inside.

Beverly took a moment to grin at Richie when he saw him held in Eddie’s arms but soon after she was launching herself on the bed on the other side of Richie and hugging him tight, too. Ben, Bill, and Mike followed suit and soon all six Losers were locked into an embrace.

“Cistern?” Bill asked in a hush, and Richie nodded.

The others of course wanted to know what Bill was talking about but Richie didn’t think he’d be able to say it all again, so Eddie did it for him.

“You knew?” Beverly asked Bill.

“Yeah. That day at Richie’s house, he t-t-told me. Wasn’t mine to talk about, b-b-but I knew Richie would tell you guys, too, as s-s-soon as he could.”

Beverly nodded, and then spanked Richie’s ass. Hard.

“OW!”

“Bev!” 

“Oh my god, Beverly!”

Bev laughed. “Calm down, he loved it.”

“I did not!” Richie yelled, outraged; but a smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

“What was that for?” Eddie asked, releasing Richie and sitting up. Everyone immediately followed his example.

“For staying behind in that damn cistern,” Bev explained, and the others nodded. All except Richie, of course.

“It saved Eddie’s life,” Richie whispered, and Bev caressed his hair.

“I know, but…”

“Bev,” Ben interrupted, shaking his head. “Maybe…”

“No! I know Richie went back and saved Eddie, I know! But what if there hadn’t been a turtle god or whatever? What then, uh?” Beverly was incensed.

“Then I would have died,” Richie simply said, and all the other Losers gasped.

“Richie!” 

“Man, how could you say that?”

“You can’t…” 

The last comment came from Eddie so Richie looked at him.

“Can’t what? Uh? Decide when and where to die? Know I couldn’t go on without the love of my life and do something to stop the pain? What, Eds?”

Richie distantly heard Mike ask, “The love of his life?” but he ignored it for the time being.

“Richie…” Eddie started, tears in his eyes, but Ben interrupted him.

“I understand,” he said, and everyone looked at him. “If it’d been Beverly… I would… Yeah, I would have done the same, Richie. So I understand. But I know you can understand us, too, because… Well, if it _had_ been me, would you sit calmly now and accept it? Or would you also want to give me an earful about it and be sure it won’t happen again? That you… That we won’t lose another one of us ever again?”

Richie looked at Ben and nodded, offering him a hand; Ben took it and held it tight. Richie knew that Ben was truly the only one that understood him.

The night ended with all the Losers cuddled on Richie’s bed in a pile of arms and legs, and it was the best night Richie remembered having ever since…Well, ever since the last sleepover they all had at Bill’s house.

***

Months passed, and Richie’s life underwent significant changes. Eddie decided to move in with Richie so he requested, and was instantly granted, a transfer to the LA branch of his firm. 

Living with Eddie was like a dream come true for Richie and, while not devoid of challenges, the new situation presented a lot of benefits and interesting new experiences.

Like, for example, the very first time Eddie properly saw Richie naked and hard…

*

From his position on the bed, Eddie was laughing maniacally while Richie pretended to be a seasoned stripper and slowly undressed in front of him. His shirt was the first to go and then Richie licked his lips and touched his own chest suggestively.

Eddie’s laugh died in his throat.

“Rich…”

“Yeah?” He winked, swinging his hips. “Any requests?”

“Take it all off,” Eddie demanded.

Richie grinned and obliged. When he had a bit of an issue removing his socks and had to jump up and down a bit, cursing and chuckling, Eddie laughed again but it was short-lived.

Richie turned around to remove his boxers and offered a perfect view of his ass to Eddie. He enjoyed the way Eddie’s breath hitched so, after he kicked away the boxers, Richie stood still for a second. He wasn’t exactly confident with the way his body looked, he had love-handles and his belly wasn’t flat by any means, but Richie knew that his shoulders, his back, and especially his ass – which wasn’t as firm as Eddie’s, or as sexy as Ben’s, but it was quite nice to look at just the same – were definitely a sight.

The shortness in Eddie’s breath was proof enough that he was enjoying the show, and Richie wanted to see his face so he finally turned around. 

“Holy shit!”

“What? What?” Richie startled. He looked around the room, and his erect cock swung with his movements.

Once he looked back at Eddie, Richie chuckled when he saw that Eddie’s eyes were locked on his cock, and his head moved with it.

“Well, look at that. I do think I might have a career as a hypnotist,” Richie joked, swinging his cock some more.

“What? Shut up, asshole! What is _that_?”

“Okay so, while I truly am confident with the size of my dick, I gotta say that this conversation might give me a complex – probably already has. But yeah, putting all that aside, what the fuck do you mean what’s this?” Richie pointed at the object of Eddie’s attention.

“A complex… what… Richie! Your dick is huge! Holy shit, that’s the biggest cock I’ve ever seen!”

Richie laughed. “Alright, I’m feeling better already. In my defense, I did tell you. Again and again, for literally years. Not my fault you didn’t believe me. But wait… How many dicks did you see? No, don’t answer that. Ignore me,” Eddie’s face told him he already was. “Just tell me, is that a good holy shit or a bad one? Because, Eds, you know you don’t have to…”

“Shut up. Just, shut up and come here, would you?” Eddie beckoned him close, eyes still firmly fixed on his cock.

Richie didn’t even try to resist and soon he was standing in front of Eddie who scooted forward to sit on the edge of their bed.

“It’s a good holy shit,” Eddie said. “Of course, it’s a good holy shit. Because, Richie… Holy fucking shit!”

Richie tried to laugh but his cock hardened even more under Eddie’s gaze, especially when he started licking his lips while staring at Richie’s dick.

“Eds…”

“May I touch it?”

“And what, am I gonna say no to that?” Richie asked, in a high-pitched voice he wasn’t proud of but couldn’t help. “Please be my fucking guest!”

It took all of Richie’s strength not to come as soon as Eddie’s hand wrapped around his dick. If only he could go back in time and tell his thirteen years old self that the very thing he masturbated over for years was actually happening.

Eddie jerked him gently but firmly, and Richie threw back his own head and let out a loud moan that turned into a scream when he could feel Eddie’s tongue licking the head of his cock.

“Eddie! You don’t… Fuck, fuck, fuck! You don’t have to… You… I know this is all new for you and…”

“Rich…” 

Richie looked down at Eddie and saw him looking back with a determined expression. Then, Eddie took as much of Richie’s cock as he could fit in his mouth and gave it an experimental suck.

It was the quickest blowjob in history, and Richie knew he should be embarrassed about only lasting a minute or two, but feeling Eddie’s mouth on him for the very first time was and would forever be one of his most treasured memories so Richie found he didn’t really mind his lack of self-control. 

Besides, Richie tried. He did his best not to shoot in record time but at one point Eddie let his cock pop out of his mouth, looked up at Richie and said, “So big. Gonna have to wear a plug all day before I’m able to take this inside me.” And that was all she wrote for Richie Tozier. Thanks for playing, better luck next time.

Luckily, Eddie declared that he loved sucking cock so Richie had many other chances to try his luck and prove how long he could last.

*

Speaking of new experiences, Richie and Eddie embarked in what Eddie named the ‘Quest to getting to know one another again.’ Eddie even designed a spreadsheet on his laptop where he would list all the new things they learned about each other, and all the things they found were still the same. Richie obviously insisted that _He’s got a big horse cock_ was the very first item listed in his own column; in fairness, Eddie didn’t put up too much of a fight before he obliged. 

Richie still couldn’t believe how much he was enjoying hearing Eddie speak about his life: His time in college, the fateful tattoo night, or the first time he took a trip overseas. He also loved to see the interest in Eddie’s eyes while Richie talked about taking improv classes, finding a group to perform with, and how much it took him to convince the owner of a hole-in-the-wall club to give him his first stand-up gig.

The best part, though, came when Richie surprised Eddie with his skills in the kitchen. 

*

“No, you’re not.”

“Eds! I said I will cook us dinner and I will! You’ll love it, I promise,” Richie smiled.

“Rich, you literally burned water. I know, I was there! I’m not gonna risk you setting the house on fire just because…”

Richie interrupted. “Okay, first off, I was a kid when that happened! Plus, that was my mom’s fault. She should have known better than to leave me in charge of a pot of boiling water for the pasta when I was busy beating Bill at cards!”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Burned. Water. I rest my fucking case. We’re either going out or ordering in, and that’s it.”

Richie wasn’t really offended by Eddie’s lack of faith in his cooking abilities, but he knew that if he put on a puppy-like expression mixed in with a twinge of hurt Eddie would relent, and he was right. With one last remark about how at least he knew there were the makings of a sandwich in the fridge, Eddie left Richie alone in the kitchen under strict instructions not to come back in until Richie called him.

An hour later, Richie presented Eddie with a plate of smoked salmon with a side of asparagus and hollandaise sauce. Eddie’s eyes almost bugged out of his face and he looked up at Richie in shock.

“Well? Come on, try it,” Richie encouraged, sitting down at the table in front of Eddie. He savored the sight of Eddie taking his first bite, and absolutely adored the way he closed his eyes and moaned.

“Rich… This is delicious! How… When… How?”

Richie giggled. “Guess this is another of those things you’re getting to know about me,” he replied. “Add it to the Richie column of the ‘Quest’: He cooks and he’s fucking good at it.”

“You joke but I’m gonna write it down just like that because, holy shit!”

Richie pouted. “I thought that was only reserved for my cock.”

“Apparently, it’s reserved for everything that makes me moan,” Eddie replied, grinning.

Richie beamed. “Eddie gets off a good one!”

They ate in silence after that, and Richie kept looking at Eddie and basking in how good it made him feel to see him enjoying Richie’s cooking.

Afterwards, they cleaned up and went to sit in the living room. Eddie curled up against Richie with his head on his shoulder, a position that had soon become his favorite, and asked the question Richie had waited for all night. To tell the truth, he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it but he knew he would: The very first thing Richie and Eddie had agreed on when they started the ‘Quest’ was that they would be completely honest with each other and talk about everything even when it made them uncomfortable.

“When did you learn how to cook?”

“Settle down, Spaghetti,” Richie started, and squirmed when Eddie pinched his side at the nickname. “I’m about to give you another item for the column. I… Well, I had a girlfriend. Her name is Sandy and she… She taught me how to cook.”

Eddie’s head shot up and he stared at Richie. “You… You were in a relationship?”

Richie nodded. “I was. Denial, let me tell you, has nothing to do with rivers or Egypt, my good fellow.”

Eddie didn’t even crack a smile. “How… When… How long did it last?”

Richie sighed. “Almost a year. We… Sandy and I met at a club, she was in the audience and I was doing a set. She came to talk to me, I bought her a drink. Next thing we know we’re both shitfaced and I’m fucking her on the floor of her apartment.”

“Did you… love her?”

Richie took Eddie’s chin in his hand and kissed him softly on the lips. “I only ever loved one person my entire life, Eds,” Richie kissed him again, and Eddie kissed him back forcefully. “I didn’t remember you but my heart knew it belonged to you. It couldn’t let anyone else in no matter what. Besides, I’m gay, remember? And Sandy was, well she _is_ great but she’s, shall we say, a bit lacking in a certain department…”

“Idiot,” Eddie grinned, resting his head back in Richie’s shoulder. He started to relax but then he went rigid again and looked back up. “Do you still see her? Sandy?”

“She moved to Chicago a few years ago. She’s married now and quite happy, but… Yeah, I see her. Whenever I’m in town, whenever she’s back here. I actually called her on the phone recently and I came out to her. So yeah, we’re still in contact. She’s my friend.”

Eddie nodded, but Richie couldn’t tell if he was upset about it or not. 

“What did she say when you came out to her?” Eddie asked.

“She… Okay so what you need to know is that she has a mouth that can rival my own when it comes to talking trash. Maybe that’s why we got on so well even when it was clear neither of us was really serious about the relationship,” Richie smiled. “We probably should have been just friends since the beginning, the sex was never that great anyway, but we were both lonely and being with someone you like is better than being alone I guess. Anyway, I told her I’m gay and she said, ‘Oh my god, I bitched at Jane for stealing my black dildo but it wasn’t her at all, was it? It was you, you whore!’ And, yeah… that’s Sandy for you.”

Eddie laughed. “She sounds like she’s really something.”

“She is. You’ll love her, I’m sure. You two can talk trash about me behind my back or, knowing you, to my face,” Richie grinned, but soon he sobered up. “Unless… Eds, if you don’t want to meet her... If you’d rather I don’t see her again, I…”

“No. Hey, Rich,” Eddie kissed Richie’s jaw softly and held him tight. “I would never deprive you of someone you think of as a friend. I admit I’m a bit, well, jealous maybe but I’ll get over it. I’d love to meet Sandy if the chance presents itself.”

Richie kissed him, nodding. “You never have anything to be jealous of, Eddie my love.”

Eddie smiled and they relaxed back and watched TV for a while before Eddie spoke again.

“So, did you steal the black dildo, or…”

“Well, remember the other night when I fucked you with the black toy… Honey, I have something to tell you…”

“Richie!!!!”

Richie cackled.

*

Richie would have loved to only focus on the good parts of his new life but, as previously stated and much to his chagrin, he wasn’t a princess and this wasn’t a fairytale. Both he and Eddie had issues the size of a house and learning how to navigate them, finding a way to let them coexist, and trying to come to terms with the fact that they couldn’t fix each other’s problems but the best they could do was be there for the other when they were needed, well it wasn’t easy.

Therapy helped, of course, even if the sessions weren’t always good ones and they sometimes rendered the mood in the house unbearable. In the beginning they would fight and snipe at one another for days when one of them had a therapy session that left them feeling vulnerable and raw. Over time, they learned how to adjust their behavior and fought a lot less, but there were still occasions when their tempers collided and sparks flew.

The worst fight they ever had happened the day Eddie’s therapist made him talk about his marriage and he came home to find Richie trying bits of his new act on the phone with his manager.

*  
Richie was too absorbed in calibrating his voice to find the best way to deliver a line, and he didn’t hear the door closing or Eddie walking in.

“…so if any of you guys ever did that and is now feeling queasy, or nervous, or apprehensive about what lies ahead, I feel obliged to tell you that you can relax. I’m not your fucking wife!” Steve chuckled in his ear, and Richie grinned. “Something like that, you know?”

“I like it, Rich, I think you’re onto something. Send me the rest of what you’ve written and then we’ll talk more, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, man. I appreciate it,” Richie hung up, still smiling, and then turned around. The smile died on his face when he saw the thunderous expression on Eddie’s face.

“What the _fuck_ was that?”

“Eds…”

“Do not fucking call me that! Answer me, asshole. What was that? Were you making fun of me? Am I the butt of your jokes now?”

Richie paled. He knew Eddie just got back from a session and so, while his tone and his words stung, Richie refused to let it show and instead tried to placate Eddie.

“Eddie, no. Of course not. I wasn’t talking about you, I would never…”

“You would never do what, uh? What, Richie? Make fun of me for marrying my mother? Joke about the fact that I still get nervous whenever I see that Myra texted me?”

“Look, Eds…”

The use of the nickname was an obvious miscalculation. Richie knew that Eddie didn’t really mind the nicknames he had for him, in truth he’d come to cherish them – though he positively loathed being called Eduardo Spaguardo – but when he was in a bad mood his often over-exaggerated irritation towards them exploded, and it was always better not to fuel his already volatile mood. That was Richie’s mistake, but what came after was all on Eddie.

“Can you ever, _ever_ , be respectful? Are you completely incapable of being considerate for once in your pathetic, miserable life? I mean, I know you’re constitutionally unable to confront something without turning it into a stupid, painfully unfunny joke, but fuck Richie! For once, for fucking once, can’t you try to be a normal human being and stop being such an unbearable pain to be around?”

Eddie was seething, the look in his eyes as mean as Richie ever saw it, and his words cut deep into Richie. _Pathetic, unfunny, stupid, and a pain to be around_. Each and every one of those comments felt like bullets going through him because they signified everything Richie was scared of being, everything he was terrified to realize that the people he cared about the most might think of him. Of course, Eddie knew that and, in his own painful haze, he was throwing them out because he was hurting and wanted to hit back. Richie understood that on some level, and a part of him told him that if he just waited a moment, if he gave Eddie’s brain the time the catch up with his mouth, his partner would be horrified. Because Eddie didn’t mean it… He didn’t. Richie just needed to… He needed to…

Eddie didn’t mean it. Did he? Eddie didn’t…

Richie ran. He blindly grabbed his keys, slammed the door of the house behind himself, and ran until he physically needed to stop. Breathing harshly, tears in his eyes from the pain and the exertion, Richie leaned against a wall and lost his lunch to the bushes.

He had no idea how long he walked around aimlessly but at some point his legs started burning and he knew he had to go back to the house. Slowly, Richie made his way back and when he entered he found the house completely dark. Eddie was nowhere to be seen. Sighing in both relief and worry, Richie went back to the bedroom and took a shower in the ensuite bathroom.

He was just toweling his hair, wearing only a pair of soft pajama pants, when he heard the door slam shut and Eddie’s voice calling his name.  
Richie didn’t have it in him to answer and he knew Eddie would soon barge into the bedroom and see him, so he just kept drying his hair with the towel.

“Richie!” Eddie yelled when he saw him, and Richie’s body went rigid. 

Richie had no idea what Eddie saw in his eyes when he looked at him but whatever it was caused Eddie to start crying, and Richie hated it instantly.

“Eds… Oh shit… I’m sorry… I mean, Eddie…”

“No,” Eddie sobbed. “No, please…”

“I…” Richie was at a loss and he stood there simply watching Eddie, hoping he would tell him what he needed him to do or say because his mind was blank.

Eddie closed the space between them and buried his face in Richie’s naked chest. His arms went around Richie and he held him as hard as he could. Richie couldn’t help but hold him back, and softly shushed him when Eddie started to cry in earnest.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Eddie…”

“It’s not!” Eddie wailed. “I’m so sorry… so sorry, Richie, so so sorry! Please, I’m sorry.”

Richie caressed Eddie’s hair and tried not to start crying again. Dehydration and exhaustion probably helped him, and his eyes were still dry when Eddie raised his head and looked at him.

“I didn’t mean one word I said,” Eddie pleaded. “Not one single, fucking word. I swear. Richie, I swear to you. You’re the most considerate boyfriend anyone could ask for, and I don’t fucking deserve you. And you’re so funny, fuck, you’re just so funny… Even when your jokes aren’t, _you_ are still funny. You’re the only one capable of making me laugh so hard my stomach hurts for hours afterwards. You’re just so talented, and good, and loving, and I never want to be away from you. Richie, you…”

“Eddie…” 

“No… Please, Richie, please!”

Richie cupped Eddie’s face and sighed. “Eds?” He tried, and Eddie nodded, biting his own lip. “Eds, I won’t lie to you. What you said… It hurt. So bad. And I know you had a session today and I know that…”

“That is no excuse! I hurt you and you didn’t deserve it! You didn’t deserve any of it… It’s my fault. All my fault and I’m so sorry… Please, just please… Don’t leave me. Please, forgive me, Richie. _Please, don’t leave me_!”

Richie could feel his own eyes widen comically. “Leave you? Are you… What the hell are you talking about, Eddie?”

“You left… You ran away, and you left, and I couldn’t find you. I took the car and came after you immediately but I didn’t see you anywhere! Couldn’t find you, Rich, I couldn’t find you! I can’t… Richie, I can’t…” 

The pain Richie still felt took a step back in the face of Eddie’s distress. As usual, Eddie came first and Richie knew he would always be there to take care of him. He lowered his head and kissed Eddie. He kissed his forehead, his nose, both his cheeks, his eyes when he closed them, and then finally peppered Eddie’s lips with soft, tender kisses.

“I’m here,” he whispered on Eddie’s lips. “Not leaving. I’m here.”

Eddie whimpered and took Richie’s lips in a deep kiss but he released his mouth almost immediately.

“We need to talk,” Eddie said. “I can’t keep being a shit to you and have you forgive me at the drop of the hat. We need to sit down and fix this. And then I’ll need to earn your forgiveness and show you just how much you mean to me.”

The temptation of joking about how exactly Eddie could work towards earning forgiveness was on the tip of Richie’s tongue and he could feel a grin growing on his mouth but suddenly Eddie’s words rang through his head – _unable to confront something without turning it into a stupid, painfully unfunny, joke_ – and both the grin and the joke died on his lips.

Eddie apparently caught up on what happened because his tears started flowing again. A determined look set on his face, though, and Eddie released Richie to angrily swipe away at his face. He took Richie’s hand, guided him to their bed, then after receiving a nod from Richie, Eddie lay down and tugged Richie down with him. He arranged for Richie to lie curled against his own body with his head on Eddie’s shoulder, and once they were both comfortable Eddie started to talk about his session, and Myra, and what happened when he came back and heard Richie’s joke about marriage.

Things didn’t get better instantly. For days after the fight, Eddie was clingy and needy, and always made a point to compliment Richie for everything he did; Richie, on the other hand, tried to control his own trashmouth and not say whatever passed through his head, and met his manager in person or simply e-mailed him so Eddie wouldn’t have to hear anything else that might upset him.

They struggled, but they worked on it and they got better.

***

A whole year passed. The ‘Quest’ was completed, but the spreadsheet was left on the desktop on Eddie’s computer because they agreed they might want to add stuff at a later date. They settled with each other after ironing the corners and became experts in navigating each other’s moods and steering clear of the crashing waves.

The Losers met every few months, unable to be away from one another for too long now that they were finally back together, and the group chat was active day and night. Richie had no idea how he could ever have gone without it and vowed to never, ever, shut his friends out again no matter what. The six of them were almost pathologically co-dependent but they really didn’t care.

Ben and Beverly’s wedding was fast approaching, and all the Losers were in the wedding party. Richie and Eddie would stand at Bev’s side, while Bill and Mike would stand with Ben; but while Richie insisted to be called Beverly’s maid of _dishonor_ , Eddie was, to use Richie’s words, a fucking spoilsport and demanded to still be addressed as a best man. 

In their first year together as a couple, Richie and Eddie had many first times, and they loved experiencing new things together, so to stand with their friends for what was the very first Losers wedding where all of them would be present – and yes, they all counted Stan, too, because they could feel him still with them – was just another one of those lovely first times.

Of course, Richie’s favorite first time was something else entirely…

*

“You did what?”

Richie smiled. “Well, I know you hate airports because of germs and the multitude of people everywhere, plus you can’t stand to sit in the aisle seat and have people brush against you but you also detest sitting in the window seat because you get nauseous looking out. And the last time we flew together that kid sneezed two rows down from us and you almost freaked the fuck out, Eds. So yeah, I got us a private plane. You know how I’ve been doing well lately, getting more requests for voice over work and with the Netflix deal and all, so…”

“I love you.”

“… Yeah, so I got us a private flight. It’s not even that expensive, you know? I mean I thought I’d have to give them a kidney or even unsupervised access to my asshole – not without your permission, Eddie my love, of course – but I have to admit…”

“Richie, I love you.”

“… that it didn’t cost all that… Wait, what? What did you… Did you just…”

“I love you. I fucking love you. Richard Tozier, you are the love of my fucking life and if you don’t stop talking and come kiss me right now, I swear…”

Richie stopped talking and went to kiss him right then.

***

Richie was always there, always by Eddie’s side, but it was different now. Now, Eddie was right there with him, and he always would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I gave Richie a hair trigger in this story and I would like to formally apologize to him now ;)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this. Thank you for your time!


End file.
